The Astonishing Return of Norah Wells (10 page)

Norah's perfume fills the car. In the days and weeks after she left, he had felt it rising from the carpets and curtains, from their bed sheets. From his clothes. And then Ella had started wearing it, as though he were never allowed to forget.

He glances at Norah sitting beside him, her delicate limbs, her long fingers resting on her thighs. They used to hold hands.
It's a sign,
a girl who worked at the recycling plant had once told him.
If you keep holding hands when you've married, especially after you've had kids, it means you'll love each other for ever.

He rubs his eyes and blinks. Through the blur he looks at the blossom drifting off the windscreen, at the markings on the road. He tries to concentrate on his anger at Ella for going against him like this.

‘I learnt to drive,' Norah says.

When they started going out he owned a clapped-out Fiesta and he'd spent hours sitting beside her in the passenger seat, teaching her how to change gear, how to get on to a roundabout, how to take a slip road. He thinks about how nervous she was. And how, eventually, she'd given up, said she didn't need to drive, that the bus was fine – that she didn't need to go long distances.

‘They came back to me. The things you taught me,' Norah says.

He nods silently.

‘I don't think I could steer this thing, though.' She looks around at the dimensions of the Chevrolet.

‘You'd get used to it,' Adam says.

‘I guess so.' She shifts in her seat and then turns to look at him. ‘Did you find my note?'

He'd been gearing himself up for this conversation all day, and still he doesn't feel ready for it. Especially not without Fay there beside him.

‘Adam?'

‘Yeah. I got your note.'

Please don't try to find me.
That's what it had said.

‘So you weren't worried —'

‘Not worried?'

She tugs at her seatbelt. ‘You didn't think that something had happened to me, like Ella did?'

‘Your note didn't stop me worrying, Norah.'

In his darker moments he'd thought that maybe Ella was right, that they should get the police involved. He'd imagined a car pulling up alongside Norah, a man grabbing her small body off the pavement and bundling her into the boot. She was so easy to lift: as small and light as a sparrow.

‘So why didn't you come after me?'

‘You told me not to, Norah. I followed your instructions. Why didn't I come after you? Don't you get it, Norah? I was scared. What if I found you? What then? I couldn't face it, standing there while you told me what a loser I was, how you'd fallen out of love with me, that you didn't want me any more. The note was one thing, but to hear it from your lips…'

‘I never stopped loving you, Adam.'

‘Don't —'

‘I just want you to know that I didn't leave because I stopped caring —'

‘We'll talk about this later.'

He felt like he was talking to Ella. Stamping his authority.
Be firm
, that's what Fay had taught him.
Sound like you mean it and she'll go along with it.

Except that had never worked, had it? Ella had seen through him, just as Norah sees through him now.

She turns away from him and stares out through the windscreen. ‘So Sai's Ella's boyfriend?'

He nods.

‘You're not happy about it?'

‘She's too young for him.'

Sai was the first guy Ella had ever shown any interest in, and at first he'd been glad. He and Fay wanted her to behave more like a teenage girl, to stop focusing so much on Willa – and on her campaign to find Norah.
It would be good for her to fall in love
, Fay had said as they lay in bed one night. That was before Ella started slipping at school, smoking, getting angry with everyone.

‘And he's not right for her.'

‘It's normal, to cling on to your daughter.'

He grips the steering wheel harder. How dare she give him advice.

‘It's not that. He's bad news.' Adam says.

Norah lets out a small laugh. ‘Bad news? That's what Fay used to say about you.'

Fay. Had there really been a time when they couldn't bear to be in the same room? When the only thing they had in common was their love for Norah?

They'd only touched on the subject a few times. Their old relationship.
I always loved you, stupid,
Fay had said once. He hadn't understood.

‘Fay was right,' Adam says.

‘You seem to get on better with her – with Fay,' Norah says.

He gulps, his throat dry. So Fay's right, Norah hasn't worked it out yet.

‘Yes. We get on better.'

‘I'm glad. I mean, I'm grateful that she's been here for you and the girls.'

‘Yes.'

‘Willa calls her Mummy.'

So she's got that bit of the picture.

‘You don't correct her?' Norah goes on, her voice shaky.

‘Correct her? Christ, Norah. Willa's a little girl. She got confused.' He pauses. ‘We didn't know where you were – or whether you were ever coming back.'

‘I didn't think you'd like it.'

‘Like Willa calling Fay Mummy?'

‘You've never had much time for Fay, that's all.'

‘Things change.' Adam pulls up outside the Holdingwell post office, grateful that this will give them a reason to stop the conversation. He needs to work out what to say to her about Fay, something decent. He can't let Fay down.

‘Ella's here?' Norah asks.

‘It's where Sai works.' Adam jerks his head up to the flat. ‘And lives.' His eyes burn as he looks at the small window of Sai's bedroom. He's sat out here before, watching the shadow of his daughter and the boy she says she loves moving behind the curtains. It was pathetic, wasn't it? Spying on his daughter.

You're a good father,
Fay had told him. It was like she'd wished him into being a better person. And sometimes he'd let himself believe her. But in the end, that was all it was: wishful thinking.

Sweat gathers at the base of his spine.

‘You okay, Adam?' Norah puts a hand on his shoulder. ‘You're shaking.'

He counts in his head to steady his breath:
One
…
two
…
three
…
four
…

‘I'm fine,' he says, but continues to count. He wishes Fay had come with them. What would she tell him to do?

He turns to Norah. ‘I'll wait for you in the car.'

Norah's eyes go wide. ‘What?'

‘I think you should go in. It's a good opportunity.'

‘An opportunity for what?'

‘To make amends. It'll be a start.'

Norah stares through the windscreen at the door to the post office. She doesn't move.

‘Norah?'

She turns and looks at him. People had been deceived by Norah's bohemian confidence, the way that, despite her small stature, she held her head up high, looked strong, filled rooms with her music and her laughter. But Adam knew her better. He'd seen the fear in her eyes in the moments before she got on stage to play her trumpet. The same fear he'd seen in the months before Ella was born.
It'll be okay,
he'd said. Except he'd been scared too – scared to lose her.

Norah looks down at her lap. ‘She hates me.'

‘For Christ's sake, Norah, she's been waiting for you to come home ever since she was a little girl. She won't listen to me. I'm the one who banned her from seeing Sai.'

‘Adam, I don't think I can do this.'

His jaw tightens. ‘You have to.'

Norah goes quiet. Then she nods and steps out of the car.

As he watches Norah walk away he catches sight of a girl in the window above the post office. She's speaking to someone, using her hands like Ella does. But it can't be Ella – the girl's hair is short and dark.

Ella knows she said she wouldn't tweet any more, but she's been doing it for so long that she can't help it. And anyway, her followers need to know the truth about Mum.

As soon as she's sent the tweet, Ella's phone beeps. Willa again, only a few words this time:

Ella's heart jolts. She wishes she hadn't left Willa to face everything alone, but she couldn't stay in that house, not with Mum there.

She hears Mrs Moore talking to someone at the bottom of the stairs, her voice agitated. The post office is closed, so it can't be a customer. A moment later, two sets of footsteps come up the stairs to Sai's room.

Ella looks up from where she's sitting on the bed to see Mum standing in the doorway, Mrs Moore behind her.

‘I told her she couldn't just come up like this,' says Mrs Moore. ‘But she insisted.'

At that moment, Ella loves Mrs Moore. She's being kinder to Ella than any of the people who are meant to look after her. Maybe she can be her mum from now on.

Mum stares at Ella.
My hair,
thinks Ella. She tucks a dark tuft behind her ear and smiles.
At least now you know I don't want to look like you.

Sai climbs off the bed. ‘Who are you?'

‘She's no one,' says Ella. ‘And she shouldn't be here.'

‘Oh,
that
no one.' Sai walks over to Mum and holds out his hand. ‘Good to meet you, Mrs Wells.'

‘Don't talk to her,' says Ella.

Mrs Moore looks from Mum to Ella. ‘Sai, you know this woman?'

‘I'm —' Mum hesitates. ‘I'm Ella's mum.'

‘She means she
was
my mum.' Ella picks up Sai's cookery book and flicks through it.

‘I'd better finish up downstairs.' Mrs Moore turns to go.

‘I'll come with you, Mum.' Sai looks over to Ella. ‘Give you guys some space.'

The crow flaps in Ella's stomach.

‘Don't go, Sai.
Mrs Wells
isn't staying.'

Mum walks towards the bed. ‘Your dad's waiting in the car downstairs. He's worried. I think you should come home.'

Ella laughs. ‘You think
I
should come home?' She hitches up her legs onto Sai's bed and pulls a blanket over her. ‘I'm not going anywhere.'

‘Willa's worried. At least come home for her.'

‘You don't get to comment on what Willa needs.' Ella turns to Sai. ‘You know, I thought she was dead?' She paints a banner in the air: ‘
The Tragic Disappearance of Norah Wells
– wife
– mother of two
.' Ella shakes her head. ‘God, she had me sucked in.'

‘I never claimed to be dead,' says Mum.

Ella lets out a laugh. ‘Of course you didn't. You didn't claim anything, did you? You didn't bother to let us know where you were or what you were doing or whether you were okay – whether you were ever coming back.'

‘I thought your dad would —' Norah starts.

‘Leave Dad out of this.'

Sai comes over to the bed, sits down and takes Ella's hand. ‘Maybe you should go home, Ella. Clear the air.'

Ella notices Mum looking at Sai with eyes as huge as Willa's when something has amazed her. Dad's probably already told her loads of crap about Sai, like he's the one who makes her smoke, that he's a bad influence, that he's taking advantage of her because he's two years older than her. Dad doesn't get that Sai's more sorted than their whole messed-up family put together.

‘Have you told the police?' Ella asks Mum.

‘What?'

‘Have you told them that you're back? Handed yourself in?'

‘I don't understand —'

‘You're still on file as a missing person. I've been asking them to look for you. You're wasting their resources. In fact, misleading the police, making them think you've been kidnapped or murdered – that's a criminal offence, isn't it?'

‘If you come home with me we can talk, Ella. I can explain.'

‘It's not your home any more.'

Mum bows her head.

Ella lets go of Sai's hand, clenches her fists and digs her nails into her palms. She refuses to feel sorry for her.

Sai goes over to the window. ‘Ella, I really think you should go.' He looks down at the street. ‘Your dad's waiting for you. Staying here's only going to make things worse.' He walks to the door. ‘I'll call you later.'

Great. So now the one person who's meant to be on her side is abandoning her.

‘Thanks for the support, Sai,' she calls after him. Then she jumps off the bed, storms past her mum and Sai, and runs down the stairs.

 

For a while, they drive in silence through the quiet streets. Dad keeps glancing at Ella in the rear-view mirror, his eyes small and tired behind his glasses. He hasn't said anything about her hair yet, but she can tell he's angry.

Ella leans forward and pokes her head between the front seats.

‘So Dad, now that Mum's back and we're playing happy families, what are you going to tell Willa?'

‘Not now, Ella,' says Dad.

‘And what about Fay?'

‘Ella —'

She keeps going. ‘So you haven't filled Mum in on our new family?'

Silence.

Ella laughs. ‘Good one, Dad.'

‘Told me what?' says Mum in a low, steady voice.

‘Oh, not much really. Only that Dad's shacked up with your best friend, and Willa thinks she's her mum.'

Dad looks over at Mum. Mum stares ahead. Dad looks back at the road, changes gear and accelerates into Willoughby Street.

In a few minutes Willa's standing by the door in her favourite red wellies and the blue raincoat she'd inherited from Ella, with her Adventure Suitcase: the perfect Paddington Bear. In her free hand she holds Louis's lead.

‘Louis's staying here,' Fay says, her throat tight.

Willa frowns. ‘I think Louis would like to come on an adventure.'

‘We need him to look after Ella.'

‘Because she'll be upset?'

Fay nods. ‘She might be a little upset.'

‘Will Ella be upset because Daddy's cross with her about Sai?'

‘Yes.'

And because the mum she's spent six years idolising has shown up – and revealed herself to be one big disappointment. And because she's going to find her little sister gone.

Willa lets go of the lead and gives Louis a kiss between his ears.

‘Tell Ella and Daddy and No One Woman that we're going on a Big Adventure… ' Willa looks up at Fay. ‘Should we leave a note?'

If they don't hurry up and leave Fay's going to lose her nerve.

‘No, that won't be necessary, Willa.' Fay opens the front door. ‘Come on, let's go.'

‘Is it a surprise?'

‘A surprise?'

‘Where we're going – is that why you're not saying?'

Fay rubs her brow. ‘Yes, a surprise.'

She hasn't got a clue where they're going. She hasn't got a clue what the hell she's doing. She just knows that if she sits back and lets it all happen, she's going to lose everything.

Louis goes to the kitchen, his lead trailing after him, and a moment later he's at the window, looking out as Ella and Fay walk down the steps of Number 77 Willoughby Street, down the paving stones that lead through the garden Fay planted, through the iron gates and out onto the pavement.

At that moment the Miss Peggs come out of their front door with their three Chihuahuas.

Before Fay has the chance to stop her, Willa's waving at them and calling out:

‘We're going on a big adventure!' She swings her Adventure Suitcase into the air for them to see.

Rose Pegg catches Fay's eye. Fay looks down at the road.

‘That sounds fun,' says Lily Pegg.

‘Mummy's not saying where we're going – it's a surprise.'

Fay feels Rose Pegg's eyes bore into her. This is the last thing she needs. She clenches her jaw.
I'm not made for these spontaneous acts. I'm not made for running away.

She takes Willa's hand. ‘Come on, darling.'

‘Bye Miss Lily Pegg! Bye Miss Rose Pegg!' Willa calls over her shoulder.

Fay feels the Miss Peggs staring after them.

‘Why are we walking so fast?' asks Willa.

‘We can't be late for the surprise.'

‘Mummy, how long will the adventure take?'

‘As long as it needs to take, Willa.'

‘Will we be back in time to eat our pizzas tonight?'

‘I don't think so.'

Had Norah found it easy? Just walking out like that?

‘Okay,' says Willa.

Fay's throat tightens. It's too easy, she thinks, lying to a child.

A girl with a long black skirt and a black roll-neck jumper, black hair and black eyeliner walks towards them. Her head's bowed. Her hands, black fingernails, grip her phone. She crashes into Fay.

‘Sorry,' she says. Then she looks past Fay and back at her phone, and then straight at Fay. ‘Is this Willoughby Street?'

‘Yes it is. And we live here. Over there, Number Seventy-seven —'

‘Come on, Willa,' says Fay.

‘You live at Number Seventy-seven?' says the goth girl.

‘Yes. With Daddy and Louis and Ella —'

‘Ella?'

‘Yes, Ella's my sister. And No One Woman, who might be Auntie Norah.'

‘Thank you,' says the girl and then walks on.

‘Why did she say thank you?' asks Willa.

‘I don't know —'

‘And why's she dressed in so much black?' Willa asks.

‘It's her style. Like you like red.'

‘But black's sad.'

‘Some people like being sad.'

Willa stops walking. ‘They
like
being sad?'

‘Yes. Sometimes it's easier to be sad than to be happy.'

‘Weird.'

They sit on the hard, fold-down seats of the bus stop. Willa goes quiet. Then she eases her hand into Fay's. ‘Mummy?'

‘Yes, darling?'

‘Look.' She points at a poster on the wall of the bus shelter.

Missing. Anna Gabriel. 14. Last seen on Holdingwell High Street on the 21st of March 2014
. And then a blurred picture. Curly brown hair. A sideways smile like the photographer's caught her off guard.
We're a lifeline when someone you love disappears
…

Fay feels sick.

‘We should tell Ella,' says Willa.

‘Tell Ella?'

‘She could put a picture of Anna Gabriel on her missing persons website.'

‘Oh… yes.'

‘Lots of people follow Ella's campaign.'

‘Yes, they do.'

‘And her Twitter account too.' Six years old and she understands all these things. ‘I wish you'd let me have a Twitter account. Then I could follow Ella and help her find the missing people.'

‘When you're a bit older, Willa.'

‘Will I be older on Sunday?'

Fay smiles. ‘Yes, you'll be older on Sunday. But not quite old enough to use Twitter.'

Willa gets up and walks up to the poster. She brushes her fingers down the plastic cover. ‘It looks old. Do you think that maybe they've found her and forgotten to take the poster down?'

‘Maybe.'

‘I hope so.'

‘Yes.'

‘Otherwise her parents must be very sad.'

Fay hears the bus turn into Willoughby Street. She looks up and watches it sway towards the shelter.

‘It's here!' Willa picks up her case and goes to stand on the edge of the pavement.

Fay doesn't move.

The bus doors open.

Willa looks over her shoulder. ‘Mummy? The bus is here.'

Fay doesn't take her eyes off Anna Gabriel's face.
Her parents must be very sad.
Willa's words crash around in her head.

‘Mummy?'

The bus driver thumps his horn. Red spider veins on his cheeks.

Fay stands.
We should go back,
that's what she thinks. This isn't what I do. I'm not the one who runs away.

The driver cranes his neck and looks straight at Fay. ‘So, you coming or not?'